


Love When You Can

by Zarry_fvcks



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Awkward First Times, Blow Jobs, Coming Out, First Kiss, Fluff and Smut, Light Angst, M/M, Mentions of Taylor Swift, Poor Zayn Malik
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-22
Updated: 2015-06-22
Packaged: 2018-04-05 11:41:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,065
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4178475
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zarry_fvcks/pseuds/Zarry_fvcks
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Zayn lives in a world where your mate is decided by a shape (or half of) inked onto your body and Harry just doesn't get it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Love When You Can

**Author's Note:**

> Took over 3 months to complete a prompt made by myself, but totally worth it.  
> Title from Part of The Plan by Dan Fogelberg  
> Finished with inspiration and (aggressive) motivation from C, and self discipline.  
> All mistakes are made my me, I do not own the characters, and have no proof as to this actually happening, though I would approve if it did.

The patch of skin under Zayn's foot is burning as he walks toward the tube. His head is spinning, and the people ramming into him during their haste doesn't make it any better. All he wants to do is fling his boot out of sight and scratch. The train to Piccadilly looks too far out of reach, but when he sees a mess of floppy curls, his legs subconsciously move a bit quicker. When he reaches him, he stares at his reflection in those green eyes.

"Zayn! What's up?" Harry says, giving him a playful punch on the shoulder, which in turn makes his foot burn a little stronger.

"Shit, Haz. My leg is on fire." Zayn lets out, rubbing his shoe against the ground in a failed attempt to lessen the pain.

"Think your mate is about?"

"Not likely." Zayn shrugs, giving the tube a once over.

"C'mon, or we're gonna miss it." Harry says, grabbing Zayn's wrist and pulling him in before the doors close.

Zayn shuts his eyes and leans his head against the closed door, willing the intense itch to go away.

"Mate, maybe you should go to the doctor. I thought it was only the bird who felt this when her bloke was around." Harry frowned, watching Zayn shake.

"You calling me a chick, Haz?" He smiled, feeling his muscles loosen and his body calm down.

Harry's eyes didn't move away from Zayn's lips as he started breathing through his mouth.

He would be lying if he said Zayn wasn't attractive. And yeah, he's a bloke, but a pretty fit one. Sometimes he wishes the shape on his inner thigh would disappear and he could be with whomever he wanted.

"Like what you see?" Zayn smirked, regaining his balance when the train stopped.

"No, you've got a little boogie hanging."

Zayn laughed, gently pushing Harry away from him.

"Oh Harry, how's that bird you were seeing?"

Harry's smile immediately dropped at the mention.

"Oh. I kind of broke it off." He said, cheeks flushing.

Zayn decided not to push it, and chose instead to look straight ahead, his foot starting to itch again.

"Don't you find it weird, Zayn? That we have to go looking for a mate that we probably won't ever find? I mean, I think it's kind of pointless-"

Harry stopped talking when Zayn held onto his wrist and started buckling.

"Shit, Zayn! Are you okay?" Harry said, holding him up by his waist. People were watching, but he couldn't care less at the moment.

Zayn put his face in the crook of Harry's neck, and breathed him in. He smelled like oranges and vanilla. Soon, the tingling stopped and he felt steady again.

"Will you go with me to the doctor? You know I hate going alone."

"Of course I will.

 ♦

The doctor rubbed Vaseline on his foot to soothe the burn.

"How long has this been happening?"

"Maybe a month? I don't know." Zayn said, watching the doctor's every movement.

"Have you met your mate?"

"No."

"Your triquetra is bruised, so there is no way you could stand on it without physically hurting yourself."

"How the fuck am I suppose to do shit? Mind my filthy mouth, but I work as a waiter! Isn't there anyway for it to heal or something?"

"I'm not sure yet why this is happening. I'm going to have to do more testing, but for now, I'm going to wrap this thing up and give you some crutches."

♦

"I'm gonna fucking cry Harry. It itches so bad." Zayn whimpers, his eyes squeezing shut.

"Well, get comfy babe, because you're gonna be stuck with me for 2 weeks." Harry smiles, plopping down next to Zayn on the couch.

"You'll be at work the whole time and I'll be stuck here getting broker by the second."

"You want me to call your mum so you can whine to her about how shit your life is?"

"No! No no no." Zayn winced, trying to move.

He just really wanted to rip the bandage off and scratch until his skin bled.

"When the fuck did having a mate hurt so bad?" Zayn groaned, crossing his arms.

Harry just sat back, watching him have a hissy fit.

"Want me to make you feel better?" Harry says, pulling a joint out of his pocket.

"You always know what to do!" Zayn clapped, taking the lighter out of his bag.

He lights the spliff, takes a long drag and passes it to Harry.

Harry eyes it carefully, before hesitantly putting it to his lips.

He coughs right after, cheeks flushing a mad red.

"C'mere." Zayn says, pulling the joint out of Harry's hand and takes a long drag. Harry scoots closer, only to be pulled down on Zayn's lap. He pulls Harry face to his and blows the smoke into his mouth. Harry closes his eyes when Zayn's lips accidently tap against his own.

"Can you... please?" Harry mutters, looking straight into his glassy eyes.

It's only gone as far as kissing, and Zayn intends to keep it that way for as long as possible, especially since his mate is somewhere in the world and is presumably, a bird.

But he tries to make it last as long as possible, so he kisses Harry and lets his tongue explore his mouth, listening to the little mewls that leave Harry's lips. Zayn could feel the kiss get a bit messy after a moment, and all he remembers is the spliff leaving his hand and a night filled with green blown out pupils.

♦

Zayn thinks about his mum and dad, and how their shapes were in the most convenient places. His mum had her lemniscate on her wrist and his dad had his on his collarbone. They could spot it off each other in seconds. But his is on the bottom of his foot for fucks sake, which means his mate has hers somewhere impossible. He remembers the stories his mum used to tell him about her journey to find his dad, when they met at the airport. They were going completely different ways. His mum's luggage had been lost, and so had his dad's. While they were both competing to get the attendant's attention, his mum noticed an incomplete oval on his collarbone, and she looked at her wrist. She had felt the burning, but thought it was just because of the flight. But when she started feeling faint, she knew it was him.

_Complex shapes meet in the most complex ways_ , she always told him. Sometimes he dreamt of having a circle or a square on his body, instead of a distorted Aztec shape. That only meant he might spend his entire life searching for one person he probably won't ever find.

He still doesn't know Harry's shape, after knowing him for 10 years. Both of them never got use to the premise of having a soul mate, always laughing it off when a friend found theirs. He wonders what would happen if Harry actually found who he's suppose to be with. Zayn doesn't like thinking about Harry leaving, because he always has a way of making him feel safe.

He selfishly prays that Harry has a complex one so he doesn't leave too soon.

♦

Harry comes home at 6 with a surprise trailing close behind.

"Mum!" Zayn yells, his face lighting up.

"Zayn! My baby boy." His mum replies, running towards him, but stopping when she sees his foot wrapped and propped up on a pillow.

"What happened?"

Zayn doesn't pay attention, just would prefer watching Harry smiling at nothing in the kitchen.

"My shape is bruised or summat. The doc didn't really know."

"Are you feeling pain?" She asks, a worried expression on her face.

"Only sometimes. But I'm good, mum. How did you know I was here?" Zayn asks, looking at Harry.

"Well, your handsome best mate rang me up."

Zayn watches as Harry's cheeks turn a bright pink.

"I'm gonna go now, baby. I just dropped by on my break, but I have to leave. I'll ring you up today, okay? And Harry, take care of my son!"

"Of course, Trisha."

His mum gives him a peck on the cheek before hugging Harry and walking out of the flat.

"What you feeling for, Zayn?"

"Anything. All I've had is your shitty cereal."

"Hey!" Harry protests. "It has fiber in it."

"Well, chef, prepare me something amazing."

♦

Dinner is mostly quiet, except for the sound of the metal forks hitting the plate.

“So, what did you do today?” Harry asked.

“Just slept and watched the telly for a bit. At least they're paying me half of my paycheck for these two weeks.”

“Don’t think because your injured I won’t make you work your ass of here.”

Zayn scoffs, throwing a noddle in Harry’s direction.

“Cute, another thing for you to clean up.” Harry says, flashing Zayn an all tooth smile as he picks up their dishes.

♦

Zayn dreams of pale skin and brown hair. Green eyes with brown specs and thin nails. He sees half of his triquetra on an inner thigh, and it’s white and outlined with black. It makes his head spin, and he wants to do everything he possibly can to see her full face, but he can’t.

He wakes up in a jolt, skin shining with sweat and hair sticking to his forehead. He’s in Harry’s room, he can tell, because the smell of vanilla is filling his nostrils and he feels a body stirring near him. He sees Harry, drooling on the pillow next to him. There is a twisting in the pit of his stomach, and his fingers twitch as he thinks about pulling the blanket off of Harry’s body. He takes the covers off, leaving Harry in just basketball shorts. There is no sign of his mark anywhere, and Zayn’s cock fattens up when he imagines the shape being in the span of his shorts. He wants to fit his lips in the curve of Harry’s neck, wants to breath him in to drift him to sleep. He wants to know Harry’s shape.

♦

Zayn’s leg is healed, and he is back to work. He almost forgets about his craving for Harry, and it is slowly dying down. He works at the biggest restaurant in the UK, _Za Za Bazaar_ , right in Bristol. It’s a tiring 2 hour train ride from his flat in Piccadilly, but its great pay. They wear fancy black shirts with black bow ties. It’s supposed to be a buffet, but because it’s so busy almost every day, they brought in waiters. His long hair always has to be pulled back and his face shaved.

He hadn’t actually done so for two weeks, so when he walks in, he acknowledges the tut and the shake of head his boss throws his way.

He’s busy waiting tables when Harry comes in with a blonde girl.

He almost drops the tray of drinks he’s holding, but Paul (one of the employees) manages to balance it.

“Sorry mate.” Zayn whispers, cheeks burning.

“Anytime, Zayn.”

Harry sits at table 6, the one he has to tend to next.

He makes his way over, watching Harry flirting at his best.

“Hey, Haz.”

He looks up, smiling as wide as possible.

“Hey Zayn! Didn’t think you’d be working today.”

“Who’s this?” Zayn asks, watching the blue eyed girl.

“Um, I’m Taylor.” She says, eyes flittering between the two.

She puts her hand out, presumably for Zayn to shake, then he spots the triangle on her thumb.

He holds his hand out and gives hers a light squeeze.

“So, what would you like to eat today?”

♦

Was she a good shag?”

“Zayn!” Harry yelled, slapping him on the chest.

“Didn’t eat much. Keeping her on a strict diet?”

“Zayn, that’s enough.” Harry frowned.

Zayn turned his head, keeping his eyes on the joint rather than Harry.

“What’s up with you lately?”

He doesn’t bother responding, just stares at the spliff between his fingers.

Harry smacks it out from between his fingertips, a deep frown settling on his face.

“The fuck, Haz?” Zayn yells, watching it burn out on his new carpet.

“You’re kind of being a dick.”

“Well, sorry.”

“Here, lemme massage your feet.” Harry suggests.

“No thanks. He replies, his foot already tingling at the thought of it.

“Do you want to do summat with me? We could go to the gym. I know it’s your day off.”

“Do I look like I need to work out?” Zayn questions, staring at his thing body.

“Zayn.”

He just shrugs, which must mean yes to Harry.

♦

Zayn sees a bird with blonde hair. She’s cute, but he can see a heptagram on her shoulder. He always finds it to be a turn off when he finds someone with a different shape then him. So basically, all the time.

He looks for Harry, and spots him all the way in the back.

“Zayn!” Someone calls out for him, then he sees Louis.

“Hey.” Zayn says, watching him come closer.

“Guess who found their mate yesterday?”

Just hearing the word makes his foot tingle a bit.

“Who?”

“Nialler! She’s a red head with full tits and guess where her mark was?”

“Where?”

“On her bum! They got scanned this morning. His mum was crying. “

Zayn tries to pay attention, but the jealousy boiling his veins distracts him when he sees Harry chatting with another girl. Another one.

“Zayn? Still with me?”

“Cheers, mate. Congratulate Niall for me.”

Louis shifts, resting his hands on his hip.

“Won’t have to. Having a party and he’ll be there with her.”

“Sure, I’ll be there. Can I bring someone?”

“Haz?”

“No, a bird.”

“You know one of those?”

“Fuck you. I’ll see you there.”

♦

Zayn dreams about the girl again, but this time, there is a scent. It smells like tea and honey and he sees dimples. Her lips are a rosy red and there is a teeth indent on her bottom one. There are tears in her eyes and he wants to wipe them away, but her face is blurry and he can’t really feel her. He traces her mark and feels her skin go hot under him. “Zayn.” She mutters, and her voice is as slow as molasses; he wants to savor every syllable.

He can’t speak, his mouth is clamped shut.

♦

The party starts at 10, and Zayn is contemplating if he even wants to go. He doesn’t want to see anyone. He buries his face in his pillow as he thinks about his complex being in this terrestrial world. He wants to do something illegal, get a tattoo to cover up his triquetra while he is still young and able to do as he pleases. He wonders if the moon got to choose to be with the stars and if the sun wanted to marry the sky. What if the sun and the moon wanted to be together? Why can’t he choose for himself? He wants the bright and the dark be one and make something so unprecedented that the world would have to adore it. But maybe the universe hates him.

♦

He gets there at 12 am without the promise of a bird on his arm. He sees Niall kissing the positively red head mate, and makes a beeline straight to the kitchen. Louis is rolling joints on the top of the counter and his mouth twitches when he sees his name written on one.

“Zayn! How’s my favorite dude?” Louis yells, patting him on the back.

Zayn returns it with a half-smile, giving Lou’s hair a quick tug.

He tries not to think about Harry, doesn’t know why he wants to in the first place.

He doesn’t try looking for Harry, just happens to see him leaning against the wall making out with the blonde from the gym.

But why would he care? Harry is his best mate.

His best mate who is pretty fit, and yeah okay, maybe he likes him.

He feels the bile rising in his throat, and he needs fresh air.

He likes a bloke. He likes a bloke? His stomach hurts and as soon as he has a foot out the door, the contents in his stomach spill.

It hits him even harder when he’s not drunk or high. He’s kissed him before, but just to see what it was like, it didn’t have to mean anything.

But shit, he likes the taste of the inside of Harry’s mouth and he likes how his plump tongue feels against his. Shit.

He didn’t even know it was possible to have feelings for a guy, has never seen it happen before.

It’s hot and his shirt is sticking to his body, but he realizes that the water on his face isn’t from him sweating.

♦

Zayn has 58 voicemails on his cell, and he avoids Harry at work like the plague. He has to wait on a couple who just engaged, and he tries not to roll his eyes.

He brings the empty plates to the kitchen, and Harry is sitting on the counter, watching him with his black tie on.

“Uh.”

“Zayn, what the fuck is your deal? Just because you get a high off of being a dick doesn’t give you a right to do it to me! I’m your best mate, shouldn’t you be able to tell me anything?”

Zayn’s hands are quivering, and he is about to speak when the boss yells at them to get back to work.

Harry huffs out of the kitchen, and Zayn tries not to stare as he does so.

♦

Zayn’s not good at dealing with his problems, so yes, maybe he fucks two birds at the same time and licks one open until her skin is raw with his stubble, but it doesn’t make him think about Harry.

♦

You can only ignore a person for so long, and you can only ignore Harry for 2 days, at most. He’s in the sowers at the gym when he feels a presence behind him.

He turns around and a quiet yelp leaves his lips when he sees Harry.

The worst part is he’s nude and wet with the shower head.

Of course he’s seen Harry naked before. It’s impossible not to when he enjoys being absolutely stark, but under the circumstances Zayn is in, he finds it best not to see Harry like that.

Zayn tries to get away, but Harry’s hold on his wrist is like a vice.

“Harry please.” Zayn begs, looking up at his tall mass of a mate.

“No, Zayn. We are going to talk.”

He focuses with all his might to keep his eyes on Harry’s face, because if he looks down he knows he’ll be done for, and already has a semi from standing this close.

“Can we do this when we both have clothes on?”

Harry looks down, almost forgetting that he was stark naked, and Zayn forgets too, dropping his eyes and seeing Harry in all his glory.

“Oh gosh.” Zayn cries out, rushing out of the stall, not bothering to clean up.

But he does text Harry about talking soon, dressed formally.

♦

He dreams about her. Her name starts with an S, or so the symbol on her neck says. He wants to devour her with his eyes, memorize the planes of her body into his heart and outline every pulsing vein that sends blood to her beautiful being. Her eyes come into view, and they are filled with guilt. Her eyelashes flutter but her face is still evanescent and he wants to see her in the brightest light and the blackest dark. He finally gets a chance to run his hands over her body and it feels like nothing he’s ever touched before. The curves seem as if they are lasting forever and when he reaches the tips of her toes, he wakes up,

♦

Zayn is sitting in Harry’s mum’s guestroom, his feet digging into the plush carpet. Harry convinced him to go on a 3 day vacation with him to his mum’s home in the states. He didn’t want to, hates how loud it is outside and how he can never really get any sleep. Harry hasn’t asked him what is going on yet, but he knows him, and he knows the silence won’t last long.

It lasts until dinner, when Zayn has a mouth full of rice and Harry has sipped maybe a little past too much wine.

“Zayn, can you tell me what’s going on with you?” Harry pleads, watching Zayn with sad eyes.

“Harry, honestly, I can’t even explain it to myself.”

“Does it have something to do with your mate?”

Zayn almost says yes, because Harry is his friend, but he decides against it.

“Can we talk tomorrow? I just, sorry.”

Harry smiles a sad one, and gets up to clean.

♦

He doesn’t remember when it was so hard to be himself, when it was so hard to accept. Harry has always been so extroverted. He makes it seem so possible. So what if he likes Harry? Would it be so bad? Yes. Yes it would. His dad would never accept even though he loves Harry to bits and it wouldn’t happen anyway because a stranger in the world has his shape and that’s who he has to be with and Harry will be with someone too. Just not him.

♦

They decide to head to Central Park because its only 11 pm and Harry doesn’t want to be cooped up They are at 74th when Harry spots water and tugs Zayn towards it.

“Isn’t it so pretty?” He asks, his bright eyes taking in the view.

“Harry, I fancy you.”

( _So maybe he is good with his emotions_.)

“What?” Harry says.

“I like you as more than a mate. I think about you to get off and I spend my hours wondering about what you’re up to. I don’t know when this happened but I fancy you, okay? And its fine if you don’t feel the same. I just… I’ve been in a pissy mood because I saw you kissing a girl at the party and I felt jealous and shit I was scared because I didn’t know why I was feeling that way.”

Its pitch black outside, but Zayn can still see the pink of Harry’s cheeks.

“I, uh. You’re quite fit and I have thought about you when tossing off a lot. But, um. I don’t know how I’m supposed to feel, liking a bloke? So I don’t know if this is me fancying you or just a passing thing. I don’t want you to get your hopes up because I don’t know what to do and I get bored and I will most likely hurt you in some stupid way, but that’s my problem.”

Harry still hasn’t spoken, and Zayn feels his heart being crushed.

“Don’t know why it should matter, right? Cause you have a mate somewhere and so do it but-“

Harry stops him from talking by giving him a bone crushing hug.

“I’m sorry Zayn. I like you too, but I’m not sure if it’s how you expect it to be. I can’t be in a relationship. What if we’re together and you find your mate or I do? I don’t want to hurt you either.”

“I don’t care about my mate, Harry. I just want you.” Zayn blurts, his cheeks reddening.

“So kiss me right now. Kiss me when you’re not high or intoxicated so you’ll remember in the morning.”

Of course, Zayn can’t do that. He’s too scared of what others will think of him.

“I thought so.”

He fucked up, he spilled out everything to his best mate, only to ruin it at the end.

“Harry wait.”

He turns around, and Zayn’s foot tingles as he walks closer to him.

Zayn holds Harry’s cheeks, gently fitting their lips together.

His gut reaction is to move away, but he doesn’t, rather choosing to pry Harry’s mouth open with his tongue and explore further into tit.

It gets sloppy, his lip catching on Harry’s teeth before he moves away.

Harry’s eyes are still closed, and when he open them, Zayn sees a glint that makes his stomach hurt.

“Want to show me your amazing wanking skills?”

♦

It doesn’t happen in a rush, but only because they are both new at this and they don’t want to mess anything up.

Zayn’s not sure what he got himself into when Harry starts opening him up with his fingers.

“Ahh…” Zayn squirms, recoiling away from Harry.

“I’m sorry. It’ll hurt less soon, I’m pretty sure.”

Harry adds another finger, spitting between them until Zayn’s thighs are slick with it. Harry starts peppering his hips with kisses when Zayn loses control of his body.

He can’t really take it anymore, so he tells Harry to stop, halting all movement.

“I can’t. It hurts.” Zayn sighs.

Harry bites his lips, then his head disappears between Zayn’s legs.

He gets his mouth on him, making Zayn gasp. He slurps and it sounds like he’s eating a lolly, but he just takes him deeper until his nose is in Zayn’s pubes.

It feels so good that he doesn’t even notice when Harry puts his fingers back. He does it like he’s practiced millions times before, which he’s pretty sure he hasn’t.

But he curls his fingers and ghosts a touch at something Zayn has no clue of but wants more.

“Harry!”

It comes out strangled and caught in his throat, but it still feels good because he’s running his tongue all over the head and Zayn is one more lick away from climax.

( _It actually takes two more thrusts and a few more fingers, but who’s counting_.)

 ♦

It’s not as awkward as Zayn expected it to be, almost having sex with your best mate. They don’t speak after, Harry pulling out his phone and Zayn staring at the ceiling. He wants them to talk, kiss maybe, but Harry looks so content and he really doesn’t want to disturb him.

“Stop thinking so loud.” Harry mutters, giving Zayn a glance.

“Sorry.”

He puts his phone away, nestling into the bed.

“So, what’s your shape?”

Zayn doesn’t know why it gets to him so much, he just wants to know what his competition will be like.

“It’s in between my legs, so if you want to find out, I suggest you situate yourself over there.” He smirks, opening his legs a bit, making space for Zayn.

He doesn’t bother looking, just crawls down and licks Harry’s mouth open.

He gets pliant in his arms while Harry rubs his bare arse.

“Do you wanna see my mark, Zayn?”

Zayn shakes his head, sucking a mark onto Harry’s neck.

“Can you blow me?” Harry mutters, running his fingers through Zayn’s hair.

“Nope.”

Harry open his legs further, but Zayn moves out of the space and to the bathroom.

He chuckles when he hears Harry protests from behind the door.

He turns on the shower, stepping inside and cleaning himself. Alone.

Well, alone for a few minutes until Harry comes in and does get him on his knees, his eyes closed while the showerhead washes away the come on his lips.

♦

They don’t put a name to what they are, not really. But Zayn doesn’t let his eyes wander and Harry stops pulling girls. When they go to parties, Harry always makes sure to have his hand on Zayn’s wrists when the dark of the night is present to conceal them from suspicious eyes.

It’s nice, being able to kiss someone you like and not feel the guilt of cheating on a person who may not even know you exist. He should feel it, but it always vanishes when Harry holds his hips into place while grinding on him or when he leaves love bites just underneath his collarbone, just to see Zayn weary eyed and pushing up the collar of whatever shirt he has on that night.

Harry likes to claim, and he wants people to know that Zayn is his, something the latter wants just as much. But they don’t put a name to it.

And Zayn can’t tell if it’s a good or bad thing.

♦

Something happens that screws them up very bad.

They are kissing, and Harry promised he locked the door, but Louis comes bustling into the flat in a hurry.

They separate to the literal ends of the room when they hear the squeal.

“I knew it, you sour bastards! Thought you could hide something this juicy from me?”

They don’t know what to do, so they stare at each other with similar looks of horror.

“Why do you guys looked like you just saw a ghost?”

“Mate, you just saw us kissing. That isn’t normal.”

Zayn winces at Harry’s choice of words, _normal_ bouncing between the gears in his brain.

“I don’t care! Am I surprised? Sure, because I have never seen two lads kissing, but you guys have never just been two lads.”

Zayn wants to make a run for it, the door looking like a gateway to heaven, but he decides against it.

“You guys can continue. I just came to catch you in the act. It’s fine, really. Carry on.”

When Louis leaves, Zayn just stands there watching the door, half expecting for him to come back. But Harry decides to make the first move and kiss him, which leads to the second, third, and fourth.

♦

When they fuck for the first time, it’s sloppy and Harry is confused on where to put what. When he does get inside of Zayn, he comes almost 60 seconds after, leaving Zayn with a proper sore bum and pain etched onto his face.

♦

Zayn is dreaming about Harry, maybe for the first time in his life. He doesn’t see the girl anymore, just Harry’s curly brown hair and pale skin, green eyes with brown specs, slender fingers and deep dimples. He sees pink lips and flushed cheeks, and he doesn’t know what to make of it, but he still sees the triquetra on his inner thigh, then everything turns dark.

When he wakes up, it’s not in a rush, but slowly and carefully, aware of the body next to him.

He wants to speak, but no words are coming out and he’s scared of what will leave his throat.

“H-harry.”

He moves from next to him, slowly blinking up at Zayn.

“Mm?”

“Look at my foot. Like, right now.”

A frown makes its way onto Harry’s face as he rubs his eyes.

“Are you for real? You woke me up at what, 5 in the morning to look at your foot?”

“Harry, just stop whining and look at it.”

Zayn pulls his leg from under the covers, and almost shoves it in Harry’s face.

Harry squints a bit, then opens his eyes when he gets used to the light.

“Holy… fuck. What?” He says, getting up and rubbing his eyes again.

Zayn’s heart is beating fast, and he feels like he could pass out any second.

“Zayn! Do you know what this means?” He yells, pointing at his thigh.

He opens his legs, and Zayn stares hard at the mark.

“Harry how is this possible?”

“I don’t know.”

“Well, what do we do?”

Harry just stares at Zayn, not knowing what to say.

“Well, uh. Lots of people have the same shape. Maybe ours are different sizes, but we just can’t tell.”

“Do you not… want to be with me?”

Zayn bites his lip, casting his eyes down and fiddling with his fingers.

Harry smiles at how cute he is, then tilts his face up.

“Zayn, you know that isn’t true. I just, I have never seen it happen before so I don’t know what to make of it. I would love to be with you, as annoying and grumpy as you can be.”

Zayn tries hiding a smile, and gives Harry a quick peck on the lips.

“Should we go to the office, then?”

“No. we should fuck, then sleep, then go to the office in the morning.”

Zayn silently agrees, letting Harry lead the way.

♦

Zayn is in nothing but one of Harry’s oversized jumpers when he realizes that he can’t do it.

He’s shaking, and his heart is pounding in his chest.

“Oh my god Harry! My mom is going to think I'm a freak!” he yells, tears streaming down his tan face.

“Zayn, its fine.”

“No! Oh no! I can’t. I can’t do it.”

He bows his head between his knees, taking shallow breaths.

Maybe Harry is his mate. But what happens after that? He doesn’t want to be different, he wants to be normal just like everyone else.

“Zayn! You’re mum and dad will know it’s not your fault. You didn’t choose the sign on your body. Now stop crying, please.”

Zayn sniffles, then wipes his nose with the sleeve of his jumper.

“What if it doesn’t work? What is we’re not supposed to be together and we just wasted all our time-“

“Zayn.”

Harry’s voice is distant and cold and it makes Zayn shiver.

“If you don’t want to go, then we don’t have to. We can go about our lives acting as if nothing happened. We can wander the world pretending as if we don’t care about each other and then you’ll fade away. If you want that, just tell me now.”

“I don’t.”

“So what’s the problem?”

Zayn doesn’t want to speak, but when he does, it’s laced with regret and fear.

“I’m scared, okay? Harry, you’ve always been too fast for me and I’ve spent my entire life trying to keep up. Sometimes I don’t want to talk and I just want a fag, but you’re so social and outgoing so there is no way you could be stuck with me.”

Zayn picks at the lint of the jumper, scrunching his toes together.

“Sometimes I lay on my bed, with nothing on at all. And I close my eyes, and I. I just breathe. I take deep breaths to feel them fanning over my upper lip. I breathe to make sure I’m still human because sometimes I forget.”

Harry sits at the edge of the bed, holding his face in his hands.

“I’m not... I just. People say I go through girls like hours go by but it’s not true. I just need someone to keep me grounded sometimes and that’s you. I guess I didn’t notice it at first but you’re too good for me. Maybe I run so fast because I know you’ll always be right behind me.”

“I don’t like when you run.”

“Then I’ll stop, okay? We don’t have to go to the office right now. We’ll go when you’re ready but I’ll be here waiting. I’ll slow down.”

♦

Zayn finds out that it’s impossible to stop a professional athlete from running.

♦

Harry does go through girls like hours go by, because Zayn sees him every day with a new one.

He’s tired of Louis cuddling him to sleep every night while tears leaves crust indented paths on his tan skin. He’s grateful though, because no one else knows how to talk shit as good as Lou, and because no one else knows about him and Harry.

Or knew, because there is definitely no more of them.

Louis forces them together one night, when Zayn is too tired to notice the curly lad being pushed near him.

_I’m tired of waiting_ , is the excuse he gives when Louis asks him what’s going on.

Zayn keeps his eyes on the swishing pink liquid clonking against his glass.

“Okay, so you guys are mates. What I understand is Harry is being a little promiscuous and is breaking my Zaynie’s heart.”

“Lou. He has his own mouth, he can use it. Last time I checked, he’s pretty good with it.”

Zayn gets up so fast he almost knocks the table over, and quickly drenches Harry with what was left of his drink.

“I am not the bitch in this relationship or whatever the fuck it is okay? Don’t you ever disrespect me again you fucking slag. I don’t even care about the effing tat anymore because it’s pointless. You can’t keep your dick in your pants for more than a millisecond and you know what? You don’t have to be tired of waiting anymore because it’s fucking done.”

Zayn grabs his jacket from the back of his seat, ignoring all of the stares throughout the bar. He storms out, not sparing anyone a glance.

He pulls out his packets of smokes, only to find it empty.

“Fuck me.”

♦

It’s easier to avoid Harry than he thought. At work, he waits tables and writes on notepads until his fingers ache. Harry is on dish duty so the only time they make contact is when Zayn tosses the plates in the sink. Harry tries to talk to him several times, but Zayn just glances and looks away every time.

At the pub, Zayn just stays with Louis and Niall, not looking at Harry and the blond bird on his neck.

He doesn’t notice when they kiss or when they walk out of the door hand in hand. He doesn’t.

♦

Harry corners him against the bathroom wall of the pub one night and it feels like déjà vu.

“Are we just going to act like we aren’t mates Zayn?”

“I don't know. How many birds have you fucked since our last conversation?”

“None.”

“Harr-“

“Zayn I swear!”

Zayn wants to push Harry away from him, but his hands stay limp at his sides.

Instead, he grabs his neck and slots their lips together.

His heart flutters because he’s missed this, for almost a month he’s missed Harry’s pink wet lips and his pliant tongue. How he groans every time Zayn twirls his tongue in his mouth, and he especially missed the whimpers that pass between his lips when he pulled his hair a little too rough.

They kiss for almost half an hour, Zayn’s lips feeling sore and bruised.

“I’m not sorry for throwing a drink in your face.” Zayn confesses, staring up at Harry.

“I’m not sorry for saying that you’re good with your mouth.”

“Well you should be.”

Zayn pushes Harry off of him and walks back to his seat in the bar.

“Louis, I’m going to head out.” He says, biting his lips until it’s raw.

“You sure, mate? Niall’s on his way.”

“Maybe next time, mm? I have work early tomorrow and I'm absolutely knackered.”

“Okay, have a good one.”

Zayn smiles, then pats him on the back before heading out.

Zayn goes across the street from the pub to the old park and sits on the bench.

He waits a few minutes, then sees long legs coming towards him.

“Took you long enough.” He muttered, kicking the wind with his feet.

“Zayn I’m-“

“You don’t have to apologize. Well you do, but I don’t want to hear it.”

“Okay. I fucked up. Everybody makes mistakes and I happened to make a huge one. Listen, I never really understood this soul mate bullshit, and I doubt that I ever will. But that’s why I need proof! We have to go to the office to make this official.”

“What is there to not understand? You have a shape, which I also happen to have as well. We’re mates, that’s it.”

“That’s not it, Zayn.”

He huffs, getting up and walking further into the lamp lit park.

“Now who’s the one running?”

“Harry stop. I’m over this already. You obviously don’t care and I’m not going through this on my own.”

“Zayn wait.”

He turns around, sighing when he sees the sad look on Harry’s face.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. Sometimes I forget other people have feelings too. I don’t know. Okay, so I’ve fancied you much longer than whatever happened did. I just thought it was weird because you’re a bloke so I guess I hid them. When you told me that you felt the same way, I didn’t know how to react because I wasn’t expecting it. I’m just one star in a galaxy filled with millions of them, so sorry that I find it hard to believe that my mate was right in front of me for 10 years.”

“There’s over 300 billion stars, not millions.”

“Zayn.”

His lips twitch, it almost looks like a smile, but not quite.

“Okay, we’ll go to the office.”

♦

Zayn can’t remember when he stopped dreaming about the girl and replaced her with Harry, but he’s happy that he did. Green eyes and a sharp jaw are better than green eyes and plump cheeks. Narrow hips are more satisfactory than wide ones and stout lanky legs with meaty thighs are more attractive than a symmetrical body with a bust and petite fingers.

He hopes Harry forever replaces the girl.

♦

They don’t go to the office immediately, because Zayn has to get rid of all the aggression boiling in his veins and Harry promises that he saved all his stamina for when they could do this again.

It’s still awkward, only having done this a few times before, but he’s learned how to prep really well and his tongue is getting is used to the taste of Zayn.

He knows Zayn hates making noise while they fuck, but he loves when he snaps his hips in just the right place, forcing a needy cry out of his sinful lips.

When he rolls his hips and Zayn clenches around him, he swears he sees stars.

All 300 billion of them.

He doesn’t know how much longer he can last; Zayn is still so tight and Harry isn’t used to the velvety heat that he’s engulfed in, but he waits until Zayn comes undone to make a mess of his arse and the white sheets.

He realizes that he doesn’t want to be in anyone else.

♦

Sometimes the world hates him. But sometimes he gets what he wants. Maybe he was confused on what _it_ actually was. The universe wanted him to turn out this way, and that is exactly what happened. The world doesn’t make mistakes, and he knows that he and Harry definitely aren’t one of them.

 ♦

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!


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